


The Destined and The Damned

by fridgetax



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, It's Backwards, Love Triangles, Lovers To Enemies, Pre-Rogue One, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:19:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fridgetax/pseuds/fridgetax
Summary: 'Blaire met his eyes once again. She took a sip of her drink, rolling the smooth liquor over her tongue, “I like a man with power.”“In that case, allow me to introduce myself,” the officer clad in white raised his hand, “Director Krennic.”'Sith apprentice Blaire Kaiden accompanies her master, Darth Vader, to Coruscant for the annual festivities taking place at the seat of the Empire. Champagne and diamonds are not all that awaits her at the lavish celebration for the 16th anniversary of Empire Day.
Relationships: Darth Vader/Original Female Character(s), Orson Krennic/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	1. Champagne and Diamonds

“Remember, Apprentice, that this is simply a formality. We wouldn’t be attending otherwise.” The deep hum of Darth Vader’s vocalizer rang in the cold turbolift.

“Of course, Master,” Blaire said as she tugged on her breastplate where it met her waist. Her new uniform fit well. A little too well. Most of it was comfortable and even stylish. The shirt and leggings were made from a stretchy, black material with red lining. The skirt made it feminine and the cape made it regal, but Blaire felt the heel was unnecessary. The designer, however, insisted that it adds height and makes her look more formidable. The glossy plastoid of her breastplate and the metal accents on her belt shone from the light coming through the tall and narrow side window in the turbolift. At least for today, she would not have to wear the helm, which was shiny and sleek and made her look terrifying. Though, that wasn’t always a bad thing.

“If it were not for the Emperor’s direct orders, we would be training instead of brushing shoulders with these self-engorged degenerates.”

Blaire turned to her master with a quizzical look, “I thought you said we were going to meet the most decorated officers in the Empire?”

Vader made no movement, “Decorated? Yes. Insufferable? More than you can imagine.”

And with that, an electronic bell sounded and the turbolift doors opened. A buzzing, under-lit party tapered to a stop before them. All eyes rested on the pair of black-clad Sith in the turbolift.

“My Lord Vader!” A middle-aged officer stood from his place on a sofa. “The greatest pleasure to see you and my daughter. Please, come in.” The party settled back into low chatter as the man greeted them in.

Vader took the first step forward, signaling Blaire to follow him into the lavish, Coruscanti high-rise suite. The windows were tall and wide, letting in the gorgeous sunset view. Officers were drinking champagne in oddly-shaped flutes. Blaire noticed something glimmering from the bottom of their glasses. She squinted a little to see what it was as she passed a stilted table, and was surprised to discover that they were little diamonds, shimmering through the pale liquid.

“Of course, Grand Moff Kaiden. We will not be staying for long. I have some matters to attend to,” Vader stated.

“At least let Blaire stay for a drink, Lord Vader,” the officer said. Vader didn’t respond, but simply turned to find some poor unfortunate admiral to interrogate further into the party.

Blaire and her father conversed for a bit, reconnecting after months without visiting. They were both busy with their duties, so it was hard to find time to just be father and daughter. He introduced her to his colleagues, or at least the ones he liked. Eventually another couple arrived at the party, and Blaire’s father excused himself to go invite them in.

“Fathers can be so overbearing, can’t they?” a man said over her shoulder. Blaire turned on her bar stool to see who it was. He was older, tall, with rugged features, handsome even. He was dressed in a striking white uniform, uncommon among officers. His cape hung from his pointed shoulders, and he wore a curious grin.

Blaire looked him in the eyes and matched his expression, “Mine has a right to be.”

The man’s grin widened, “Yes, I suppose every man would be, if his daughter was working for Lord Vader. Especially if his daughter was as perfect as you are. Everyone in the Empire is privy to Vader’s predatory tendencies. Though, some girls like that.”

Blaire’s eyebrows raised at the officer’s profound confidence. “You’ve heard of me?”

The man shrugged. “Who hasn’t, Blaire?”

“He’s not really like that,” Blaire said as she dodged her hazel eyes, “That’s not the kind of man he is, and that’s not the kind of man I like.”

“Then what kind of man do you like, darling?”

Blaire met his eyes once again. She took a sip of her drink, rolling the smooth liquor over her tongue, “I like a man with power.”

“In that case, allow me to introduce myself,” the officer clad in white raised his hand, “Director Orson Krennic.”

Blaire took his hand. The Director clasped her fingers, and drew them up to gently kiss the back of her hand.

“Director...” Blaire gave him a cautious smile, “So, what do you direct?”

Krennic took a seat on the bar stool next to her. “Oh, just the construction of the greatest weapon the Empire has ever seen.”

Blaire’s eyes gleaned, “You’re not talking about-”

“The Death Star. Yes, I organized the installation of the super laser.”

Blaire leaned in closer, magnetized by him. “I’ve always wanted to meet the man that built the Death Star,” she blushed and looked down at her drink. Blaire passed a hand over her neatly braided hair, tucking a stray lock of champagne blonde hair behind her ear. If Vader knew she was flirting with one of these officers, he would probably strangle him. _Fuck it,_ she thought. _I don’t need Vader to tell who to flirt with_. Looking back up at him with newfound confidence, she said, “I didn’t know he’d be so handsome.”

Director Krennic smirked, and said, “Well, when you plan to come by it again, let me know. It would be a pleasure to give you a personal tour.”

“I’m afraid we won’t be visiting anytime soon, Director,” the harsh tone of Darth Vader’s vocalizer radiated over Blaire’s shoulder. “Come along, apprentice. It’s time to leave.” Vader’s exaggerated breaths hung in the air between Blaire and her new acquaintance. He stood behind her, hands on his belt. That was never a good sign.

“It was nice to meet you, Director Krennic.” Blaire stood and gave Orson a stiff nod, careful to hide her interest from her master.

Krennic stood up with her. “You as well, Blaire.”

Darth Vader stared the Director down through his blood red lenses. “My apprentice is First Lieutenant to the Supreme Commander, and you will address her as such.”

“My apologies, Lord Vader.” A crease formed in Orson’s brow. “Lieutenant Kaiden.” He returned Blaire’s nod and gave Vader a polite salute.

Darth Vader turned and made his way back to the turbolift and Blaire followed. The pair exchanged pleasantries with Grand Moff Kaiden and entered the turbolift.

They made no conversation as they plunged back down to the surface of Coruscant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I wanted to write in another character to Rogue One to help justify Krennic's story, and it turned into a thirst fic. This bad boy will come in multiple parts and will be updated as I write it.  
> If you have any thoughts please let me hear them in the comments as I am a long-time reader but new to actually writing fanfics so anything you can say about my work is invaluable to me. Thanks again, friends!


	2. Goodnight, Apprentice

Blaire kept silent for a bit, thinking of some way to shift her master's attention. She opened her mouth to speak up, but was cut off at the last moment.

"Do you know what I find remarkably interesting, Apprentice?"

Silence filled the turbolift once again. Blair shifted her eyes all the way to the left corners, trying to peer at Vader without turning her head. She was terrified to acknowledge him. She opened her mouth to speak a second time, but was cut off again.

"Not only did you ignore my advice about the nature of high-ranking officers, but you managed to attract the worst one. You have truly impressed me this time, Blaire.”

Blaire turned on her feet to look at her master, and Vader tilted his head to meet her eyes. “Please, Master, forgive me. It was foolish of me and it won’t happen again, I promise,” her words poured out of her mouth as she stared up at him with slightly watering eyes. She knew all too well what happened to those who crossed Darth Vader.

“Save your groveling, Apprentice,” Vader growled. He raised his heavy hand and placed it on Blaire’s shoulder. “It is your right to fraternize with who you wish. However, I must express my concern for you.” His hand flexed on her shoulder. “I would not lead you down a path you cannot follow. I cannot say the same for Director Krennic.” After a moment, he let go of his apprentice and turned away to look at the closed doors of the turbolift once again.

Blaire blinked a few times, and looked down at her shoes. “Are you going to kill him?”

Vader hummed in contemplation, “Perhaps.”

Blaire still clung to her apprehension. “So,” she said as she straightened up and looked to her right, gazing out across the dark Coruscant city profile. The buildings were accented with lights of all colors. “You’re not going to choke me?”

Vader remained silent, besides his ever-present breathing.

“I have watched you strangle countless disappointments, Master. Do I not share the same fate?”

Vader spun to face her. “I would never,” he growled as he placed both gloved hands gently on her cheeks. “You are far too precious.”

Blaire’s eyes roamed his expressionless mask. For most, it was impossible to read Vader’s emotions, but Blaire could feel him through the Force. She reached up and wrapped her hands around his wrists. It might seem impossible to someone on the outside that Darth Vader could grow fond of someone again. Blaire was there for him when no one else was, and they shared the gift of the force. It was only natural that the two grow close.

They held each other for a while until the electronic bell sounded again, signaling the end of their ride. They let go of each other as the turbolift doors opened. There were a few officers waiting by the turbolift entrance in the lobby of the expensive, high-rise apartment building. They chuckled and danced around each other, making jokes and apparently having a good time.

“Excuse us, officers.” Vader’s voice cut through their celebratory atmosphere like a lightsaber through a Twi’lek.

The men uniformly lost their smiles and swiftly shuffled aside, allowing Vader to pass by and his apprentice to follow.

As the pair exited the lobby, the walkway outside was moderately busy. Vader’s personal city transport speeder was parked in front of the building with the driver waiting patiently beside it. He opened the door to allow them both inside, closed it, and then went around to get into the driver’s seat. Vader ordered the driver to take them to his palace.

“I thought we were going to meet with Captain Corssin again tonight? Isn’t that why we left the party?” said Blaire.

Vader nodded, and said, “I will take care of the rest of the errands tonight. You can stay at the palace.”

In short time, the speeder arrived in front of Vader’s gorgeous, lavish palace. Vader turned his head to look over at Blaire. “Be ready in the morning.”

Blaire nodded. “Thank you, Master.”

"Goodnight, Apprentice."

The speeder’s door was opened for her, and she stepped out. The driver closed the door and made his way back around to his side. A second later, the speeder took off again, and the Blaire took the moment to smile to herself as her master sped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was short because it is just a segue into a larger chapter 3.  
> Also, thank you to CanadianDarkFox for my first AO3 kudos ever!  
> Stay tuned, friends


	3. Dress the Part

Blaire and Vader went meeting to meeting over the week leading up to Empire Day. The sixteenth anniversary of Emperor Palpatine’s coronation was going to be the most expensive celebration the galaxy had ever seen. The Imperial Ball was going to be held on Primeday night, and everyone was going to be there.

One morning, a few days before the ball, Vader took Blaire to a popular Coruscanti designer’s studio. He waved the curved door open for his apprentice, and Blaire walked into the sleek lobby, Vader following close behind. Background music played with a strange voice singing lyrics in an unknown alien language. There was a neat, little seating area with some short tables by the entrance. The majority of the rest of the open room looked as though a storm had blown through it. The place was painted in glossy black and white with gold accents. Exotic silks, rich linens, and colored textiles of every kind and color were splayed over every desk. Multiple moving clothing racks stood completely full, and mannequins in every pose populated the floor. Looking up, Blaire could see multiple stories of balconies lining the walls, all clearly housing more clothes. Blaire stayed crowded up in front of the door with her master behind her, afraid to trip on a rogue accessory.

Suddenly, a curvy Twi’lek woman burst through a sliding door in the back of the studio. She was wearing a sheer black suit, and her magenta skin was decorated with gold jewelry.

“UGH!” she screamed, “TARIA! JEWEL! GET OUT HERE AND PICK UP THE FLOOR!”

A pair of young, skinny Twi’leks shuffled out from behind the first. One was green and the other blue. They wore matching long-sleeve dresses. As they scuttled around the floor, picking up discarded pieces, the magenta Twi’lek strutted forward on razor-sharp heels.

“Vader?” She looked the Sith Lord up and down with an unimpressed look on her face. The lady pursed her lips and moved onto his apprentice. “And you’re _Blaire_ , I take it?”

Blaire nodded, unsure. “Yes?”

Vader laid his arm around her back, resting his hand on her shoulder. “She requires something to wear to the Imperial Ball. You should be capable,” he said, and pushed her closer to the magenta Twi’lek.

Carina stepped closer. She scraped her eyes over her subject, scrutinizing every detail. She chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment, and then nodded. “I can work with this,” she said.

Vader made some mention of his return, and then promptly left the studio back through the curved door. Blaire turned her head backward to detest, but Carina was already dragging her in by the arm.

“Follow me, shimmer. We need to find your color.” Carina led Blaire into the back room, which was just like the front except for the long stage curling into the center of the room. She held up swatches of dyed silk against Blaire’s skin, comparing and contrasting each one. Eventually, when Carina was satisfied, she led Blaire back to the open studio floor.

“Stand up here,” she said, directing Blaire to get up onto the center stage. “Girls!” she ordered. As soon as she said it, Taria and Jewel appeared by her side. “Jewel, start dismantling this… _ensemble_.”

Blaire spoke up, “You’re not going to do anything to it, right?!”

Carina rolled her blue eyes. “No of _course_ not, dear. Taria, find somewhere to set it aside.” She disappeared behind some clothing racks, and her assistants got to work.

Jewel, the blue one, stood up next to Blaire and started to undo the fastenings of her pauldrons.

Blaire watched her work. “So, how long does this usually take?”

Jewel looked up from her hands. “That depends,” she said airily as she returned to pulling off the cape. She went to place the shoulder piece on a nearby desk, and returned to start on the belt. In time, she stripped Blaire down to her simple underwear.

Suddenly, Carina reappeared with a long piece of tape in her hands. She ascended the two steps up to the circular stage. “Stand up straight, shimmer.” She wrapped the tape around Blaire’s waist, hips, legs, arms, you name it. When she was done, she took a step back. After drinking in her form for what felt like an hour, she swiftly turned on her heel and trotted back into the sea of clothing.

Blaire knitted her eyebrows and said, “Where is she going now?”

Taria turned around on the stool she was sitting on. “Probably going to get you a dress. You know, you’re real lucky. Most clients wait years for Carina to fit them. I don’t know who you have working for you to get you this appointment, but I would stick with ‘em. They’ve got real power on this planet, that’s for sure.”

Carina came out of the silk jungle with dress after dress. Blaire tried each one on, but none of them really stood out. She was trying the eleventh or twelfth different look when Carina sighed in frustration.

After a moment of thought, she pointed a sharp nail at her subject, eyes narrowing. She said, “I think I know what you need. I’ll be right back,” and left to fetch another piece.

Carina reappeared once again, this time carrying a long, black dress in her arms. She confidently sauntered over to Blaire, who was still standing on the center stage.

“Alright, girls,” said Carina, “let’s try this one on for size.” She unfolded the dress and instructed Blaire to step into it. Carina’s assistants held her arms for balance. The dress slid on, and Jewel put a pair of sharp black heels on Blaire’s feet. When it was all in place, Carina sighed and stepped backwards to take it all in.

“Yes,” Carina hissed, “It’s _perfect_.”

Taria nodded, “You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

“Totally,” Jewel said, “you’re an artist with a needle, Carina.”

Carina glanced proudly at each of her helpers, and flipped one of her magenta lekku over her shoulder. The gold jewelry on it jingled as it swayed. “Do you like it, Blaire?”

Blaire looked down at the dress she was wearing. It was a sharp, sheer, black lace mermaid with a sweetheart neckline and straps that encircled her shoulders and simply… glittered. The cape, attached at the waist, was as long as the dress, running all the way to the ground. It was made of a strange, thin material that felt like velvet. It was deep-space black on the outside, but blood red underneath. It was not often Blaire got to dress up in any kind of elegance or fashion. She was often the victim of long, rough missions to the Outer Rim, and Vader certainly never made time for parties. For the first time in her life, Blaire felt like royalty.

Blaire looked up from her gown and her hazel eyes met Carina’s blue. “I really do. It’s gorgeous, thank you.”

Carina looked like she could melt. “Oh, no need to thank me, shimmer. You are gonna be the _brightest_ star at that ball. It will need a few adjustments, but it will be ready for the big night. You can take it off now.”

The Twi’lek girls helped Blaire out of the dress, and let her put her own clothes back on. Carina led her out of the back room and into the lobby. Vader was standing by the door, arms folded and staring at the mess of cloth that continued to plague the floor.

“She should be ready to go now,” said Carina. She turned to Blaire. “I need you in here at least three hours before the ball on Primeday. I have a lot of girls coming in for this event, so don’t be late on me.”

“Thanks again, Carina,” Blaire said and smiled warmly.

“Don’t mention it. Now get out of here, shimmer. I got another client to fit coming in here in 5 minutes.”

Blaire walked to the door, eyes locked with Vader. “Where to, Master?”

“Grand Moff Tarkin has requested we meet to discuss… certain matters.” Vader waved the curved door open. “After you, Apprentice.”

Blaire smirked and led the way out of the studio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I feel about this one. It was hard to keep it Star Wars and not so planet Earth. I wanted to go straight to the Imperial Ball, but felt there was just one missing link that I needed to have. The big one is coming up next. Promise.  
> Let me know what you think about it and stay classy, friends


	4. A Trilateral Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so many things omg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally done. This one took much longer to write because I was so busy and then I went on vacation and then I got bored with it... you know the story. Anyway, here it is.

It was finally Empire Day. Three hours before the grand commencement of the annual Imperial Ball, Blaire went back to Carina’s studio to get ready, as instructed. The first time Blaire saw the studio, it felt hollow. Then it was a big empty room with so few people. This time, however, the studio was packed and in an even deeper state of chaos. Clients of every race and flavor had flooded the lobby. Some were standing around in their gowns and suits, some sitting in salon chairs, and some were being tugged around by Twi’lek employees.

“There you are!” Blaire heard a familiar voice calling from the sea of guests. Jewel hurried over, visibly upset; one could even say ‘exhausted’. “Where have you been?! Doesn’t matter! Come with me.” She snatched Blaire’s arm and pulled her over to a workstation with some privacy panels haphazardly placed about. She reached over the desk to pull a black lace dress from a nearby rack, and handed it to her client. “Put this on,” she ordered, and swiftly shuffled away.

Blaire looked down in shock, but quickly snapped out of it. Jewel’s urgency was contagious. She undressed behind the panels and slipped on the dress to the best of her ability. Jewel walked back over and adjusted it to fit her silhouette perfectly. As her dress was tugged on and pulled at, Blaire took a second to survey the room more thoroughly. She looked over at the salon chairs and noticed Taria struggling to manage someone’s wild and equally uncooperative hair. Carina walked up beside her to take over. Taria threw her hands in the air in frustration and sauntered away. Blaire giggled to herself.

“Okay, your dress is finally on right,” said Jewel.

“Well that was quick,” Blaire said in disbelief. “I can’t believe we're done already. So much for coming in three hours early…”

Jewel met Blaire eye to eye. “Done?! We haven’t even touched your hair yet and you desperately need an artist. Over here.” Jewel grabbed Blaire’s arm again and led her to the salon chairs. She shoved her into the only empty one and spun her around to face a crystal clear mirror.

Blaire waited for a while, visually exploring her own face. At some point, she looked around impatiently and noticed the woman sitting next to her. She had short blue hair and was wearing what appeared to be a strange lump of white feathers.

“Hello there,” Blaire said, trying to be friendly.

The woman in white looked over at her, but didn’t say anything. She looked absolutely devastated. Tears streaked her olive cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Blaire asked, slightly worried.

The woman looked down at her lap and pushed her lips together. “I’m getting married!” she sobbed.

Blaire knitted her eyebrows in confusion. “Shouldn’t you be happy, then?”

The woman shook her head. “He’s a Hutt!” she cried, dabbing a tear from the corner of her eye.

“My apologies,” Blaire said uncomfortably and turned back towards the mirror.

Finally, Carina appeared behind her in the glass. “Alright, shimmer. Let’s get you all glowed up!” she cheered and set to work.

Over the next two hours, Blaire was washed, dried, trimmed, plucked, painted, and at the end of it all, she was simply to die for. Her champagne blonde hair was woven into a crown upon her head, and her eyes were painted sultry in black and red.

Carina made an expression of pride with her hands and said, “My work here is done.” She let Blaire out of the chair and led her to the door. She muttered something about her payment and needing to get to the next client, and ushered Blaire out of the curved entrance.

Blaire struggled against Carina’s urgent palm pushing her forward. “But what about the stuff I came in with? I left it back there with the-”

“We’ll have it sent back to Lord Vader’s palace. Don’t worry about it, shimmer,” Carina huffed, pushing her out the door.

As Blaire stepped outside into the cool Coruscanti night, she noticed Darth Vader’s personal speeder was waiting just outside. The driver standing next to it bowed slightly and opened the door for her. She got into the speeder and found the man himself seated inside. He wasn’t wearing anything special; just the suit.

“How do I look?” Blaire asked jokingly.

Vader turned to look at her and hummed. His presence was particularly commanding that night. “ _Immaculate_ ,” he said finally.

“But, where will I put my lightsaber?”

“Fear not,” he said as he pulled his cape outwards to reveal Blaire’s elegant-looking slivian iron lightsaber hilt hanging on his belt right next to his own black and silver one.

“Guess it’s wrong what they say about you, Master,” Blaire said, smirking. “You really do care.”

Vader gave a sound that almost sounded like a laugh. He relaxed his arm and turned his head back to look out the window. “Only for you, Apprentice.” Maybe it was sarcasm. Maybe it wasn’t.

Blaire’s cheeks started to warm as the driver pulled away from the studio. He flew them up to the Imperial Palace, where the ball was being held. Blaire peered out of the speeder door window. She saw the old Jedi Temple draped in gargantuan, crimson flags printed with the symbol of the Galactic Empire, glowing under swiveling, red searchlights. A place that was once the focal point of the light side, now a shell of what it used to be. Vader had told her how the Jedi Temple itself was built on an ancient Sith Temple, which was said to be still intact deep below. _Maybe it was meant to be_ , Blaire wondered, _the Force returning things to what they once were_.

The driver pulled the speeder through the approach lane, inching forward in traffic until they were right in front of the entrance. He got out to open the door. Blaire stepped out of the right side as Vader got out of the left and walked around to join her.

Blaire gazed up in awe at the Imperial Palace. It felt grander every time she saw it. She didn’t get the opportunity to visit often, but she was glad when she did. The seat of the Emperor was the most lavish palace on Coruscant. It was considered a great honor and privilege to be invited to visit, especially under such friendly circumstances. She knew others were not so fortunate.

Vader appeared to Blaire’s left. He slightly raised his arm, bent at the elbow, and offered it to her. She wrapped her hand and wrist around his elbow in acceptance. She could feel the joint between man and machine underneath the suit fabric where the flesh of his arm met the cybernetic prosthesis.

Blaire started to feel a little anxious about everything, and Vader could feel her apprehension. He reached out through the Force. His presence brushed against hers, soothing her anxiety. Blaire nodded to show that she was ready to go in, and Vader lowered his elbow to draw her closer to his body. He took the first step and they strode together into the Imperial Palace. Their black capes fluttered together behind them like a violent shadow.

In the atrium, the first thought that came to Blaire’s mind was ‘sinister’. The palace was decorated beautifully. Black and red. Gold and white. And the guests, no doubt most of them Imperial officers, were all smiling and chatting with each other. Everything appeared welcoming at first glance, but Blaire could tell that the dark side hung about the place. It hid in every shadow of every corner. She knew the Emperor would be attending. It was his palace, after all, but she was not so used to his presence in the Force.

Vader felt the tension in his apprentice. _Control your fear,_ he told her through the force. _Remember, it can only make you stronger._ It was not the harsh vocalizer that spoke to Blaire through the Force, but his true voice. Blaire tightened her grip on Vader’s arm.

“Lord Vader!” a voice called from across the atrium. A man dressed in a drab gray suit with a captain’s insignia shuffled forward, grinning from ear to ear. “An honor to meet you, my Lord!” He jammed his open hand out in front of Vader, who studied him wordlessly. A few harsh breaths passed between them. The man’s grin rapidly faded, and he drew back his hand. “My Lord?” His eyes drifted from the Dark Lord himself to the blonde on his arm. Blaire locked eyes with him but remained stone-faced. The whole room was starting to look at them.

“If you don’t mind, Captain…” Vader’s speech vibrated in the still air.

“Y-Yes, Lord Vader?” the captain stuttered. He was starting to turn pale.

“Step aside.”

The captain did as Vader said, sweat beading on his forehead, and the pair of Sith brushed past him.

Vader led Blaire through a wide archway that opened up into a breathtaking circular ballroom. The white walls were imprinted with the symbol of the Empire and framed with embellished molding. Black and red drapes framed the pillars outlining the room. The floor was a seamless expanse of smooth black stone marbled with white veins. A strange glowing contraption hung from the center of the ceiling, which was painted in solid black. The unorthodox chandelier was made of gold wires that entangled white crystals. The crystals against the black ceiling glimmered like stars against a night sky. Round tables with chairs were arranged around the edge of the ballroom, leaving the middle clear. At the end of the room was a gently curved balcony that overlooked everything. Underneath, a low stage held a band of musicians. The performers played gentle, swinging music on all kinds of strange, alien instruments. The sound filled the air comfortably. Not too quiet. Not too loud.

Blaire scanned the room as she walked with Vader. Some guests were standing around while others sat at their tables. Men wore formal suits and ladies mostly wore evening gowns, all of varying extravagance and style. She could feel their eyes watching her and her master. Her eyes were drawn to the balcony, where she could see a dark, hooded figure on an ornate throne.

“The Emperor wishes us to meet with him first,” said Vader.

Blaire made no objection, and he led her up a set of stairs on the left side of the room. There was a matching case on the right that made the ballroom symmetrical. She could feel the dark side growing in strength as they ascended. At the top of the stairs, Vader halted. A few royal guards flanked the throne, the staircase, and the exit behind the balcony. Their nearly featureless red masks and robes made them just as expressionless as Vader, if not more so.

The dark figure in the throne shifted. His lumpy, gray chin was visible from under his hood. “You have grown stronger in the Force since the last time I saw you, young Kaiden.”

“It is the greatest pleasure to meet again, your majesty.”

“Yes, yes…” The Emperor raised his hand and twitched his fingers, beckoning her forward. “Please, come closer.”

Blaire reluctantly let go of Vader’s arm and took a few cautious steps forward.

“Sit,” Palpatine ordered pointedly, and Blaire obeyed. She sat down in a comfortable-looking seat next to the throne, careful not to catch her dress on the arm rest.

“It has come to my attention that you are interested in alchemy. Am I correct?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t be so unsure of yourself. I would like to offer you a gift.” Palpatine waved his fingers, and two men dressed plainly in all black came forward. One of them held a large red box in his hands. The second man gracefully undid the little clasp, opened the box, and tilted it forward so that Blaire could see what was inside. Lying in the case on a bed of soft, red velvet was a gorgeous necklace. It was an intricate, gold chain set with a flawless, black stone in the shape of a diamond in the center.

Blaire reached out and touched the black stone. It was cool to the touch, like it had been sitting on ice. “It’s beautiful.”

“I had a feeling it would draw your attention. The gem is from an amulet made by an ancient Sith long ago. It has lost its power since being removed from its original setting, but I am sure you will find another purpose for it. Put it on.”

The second man picked up the jewelry and moved to place it around Blaire’s neck. She straightened her back and lifted her chin for him. He clasped it around her throat, and the stone rested just above where her collarbones met. Her fingers drifted up to trace the outline of the gem, where it felt cool against her fair skin.

“Thank you, Emperor Palpatine. I am hardly worthy of such a unique and expensive gift.”

The throne swiveled around so that the Emperor was facing her. His unfeeling yellow and red eyes were set in a face of wrinkled, gray skin that looked like it was made of clay.

“Do not mistake yourself, Blaire. You may be more valuable than you think. You would make a wonderful replacement.” His gaze burned into Blaire’s skin. “Now, if you don’t mind, my apprentice and I have some matters to discuss. Why don’t you go back down and enjoy the celebration? I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.”

Blaire swallowed hard and nodded. She could feel the necklace pulled taut against her throat as she did so. She rose from the chair, bowed her head in respect, and walked back over to where Vader was still standing by the staircase, waiting patiently. She looked up at him as she passed, but refrained from touching him under the scrutinizing eyes of the Emperor.

Walking back down the stairs, Blaire started to feel anxious again without the company of her master. She made it down to the marbled floor and looked for a table to join. Most of them were already full. She found one with some people who seemed friendly and took one of the empty chairs next to a blonde man in a pressed, black suit. She introduced herself as First Lieutenant aboard the _Devastator_. They all welcomed her and made polite small talk until another man approached the table.

“I hope you all didn’t miss me!” he announced. His voice sounded awfully familiar. Blaire turned to see who it was and her eyes nearly burst out of her head. It was Director Krennic, once again donning a suit of stunning white. His graying brown hair was combed back perfectly. Blaire couldn’t deny that she had missed those ruggedly handsome features. They locked eyes.

“Blaire Kaiden,” he said in awe. “I hope this seat hasn’t been taken in my absence.”

A few others at the table shook their heads.

“Please sit down, Director,” Blaire said, gesturing to the chair on her left.

Krennic did so without once taking his eyes off of her. “You haven’t forgotten me, I take it?”

Blaire shook her head.

“Can’t say I could forget your pretty face, either.” He looked over her body again. “Say, what happened to your Vader? Has he left you all alone again?”

The whole table, who had managed to return to regular chatter, all turned their heads at the mention of Darth Vader.

Blaire smiled at them shyly. “Well, he’s busy with the Emperor right now,” she explained weakly.

Krennic leaned back in his chair. “His loss…” Indeed it was.

At that, the music stopped. Palpatine appeared at the edge of the balcony overlooking the ballroom. His voice boomed overhead.

“Welcome, my loyal friends, to the celebration of the sixteenth anniversary of my coronation as Emperor!” The seated crowd turned their attention to the balcony and applauded. “I am sure you are all quite ready to enjoy tonight’s festivities. So without further interruption, let the Imperial Ball begin!”

The band promptly started again. Waiters began to mingle among the tables and handed out holopad menus.

A tall, thin woman with short, dark hair approached Blaire’s table. Her face had strange, veiny scars that ran from chin to temple. The nameplate on her lapel read “Verghis”. She introduced himself as their waiter and offered to take their orders. Everyone at the table spouted off exotic appetizers, entrées, drinks, soups, and dishes of every other kind, and she simply nodded at each request.

Just as Verghis was about to leave, Krennic waved his hand about to grab her attention. “Bring me a bottle of Domaine de la Maison sur le Lac, too. And two glasses. That’s all.”

Verghis nodded and briskly strode away.

“Do you like wine, Blaire?” Krennic asked, turning to his right.

Blaire smiled shyly and gave a subtle shrug. “Can’t really say. I don’t drink much.”

“I don’t suppose Vader drinks much, either,” Krennic said rather ostentatiously.

“Bold of you to assume you know anything about him,” Blaire shot back.

“I know he’s not here with you.” A split second of peace settled in the cracks between his words. “Left you down here with the peasants to defend his honor. Who’s defending yours, darling?” The Director’s tone very clearly insinuated that it sure as hell wasn’t Vader.

Krennic postured himself proudly. “Well, in any case, I’m sure you’ll like Domaine. It’s an old favorite of mine.”

“You’re not the only one, Director!” The blonde man to Blaire’s right piped up. “We used to drink it in the Senate meetings. Drunk ourselves to the void on old Domaine,” he said in reminiscence.

Blaire turned to look at him. His black suit made a V-shape over his chest and his collared, charcoal gray undershirt was strewn with flecks of silver. His yellow blonde hair was neatly combed back and his brown eyes were warm and honest. He looked young at first glance, but the lines on his forehead and in the corners of his eyes aged him.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before,” Krennic said, leaning forward on the table.

“Kellance Fen, droid magnate extraordinaire,” he chuckled. “But of course I know you, Director Krennic.” He turned to Blaire. “And you are?”

“Blaire Kaiden.” She gently placed her hand over her collarbone.

“Pleased to meet ya!” Kellance said, raising his glass.

“You're not in the Senate anymore, then Kellance?” Blaire asked.

He shook his head with a smirk. “Ah, please, call me Kel.” He pawed at the air. “And no. I got bored, left the Senate, and got into the droid assembly business on Vulpter. Made me filthy rich!” He talked with his hands.

Verghis arrived with a large, metal platter full of bizarre-looking drinks. She handed out each one to the corresponding guest at the table and finally set a tall, blue bottle and a pair of glasses at the table in front of Krennic. Everyone enjoyed their drinks, and the food was slowly presented in waves.

“So, Kel,” Blaire started. “You said you build droids?”

“Yeah, I own all the KX-series assembly plants. Been living large on Cantonica ever since. All thanks to those skinny, metal bastards. Hah!”

“I’ve never been,” she said, sipping on her wine.

“To Cantonica? It’s real nice. I have a place in Canto Bight. You know, I’m heading back there after this is over. You wanna join me?”

“No, that’s okay. I’m afraid I have some business to take care of elsewhere in the galaxy.”

“Smart move. You’re probably wrapped up in the Navy, I assume. Cantontica’s just one of those places. Once you go, you’ll never want to leave!” Kel laughed a little bit to himself. “Anyway, if you’re ever looking for a good time, don’t hesitate to track me down.” He offered his hand.

“Thank you.” Blaire took his hand. “Maybe someday.”

Kel chuckled again. “Well don’t wait too long, Blaire! I’m not getting any younger.”

“Neither is the night,” Blaire said.

“I’ll drink to that!” Kel raised his glass and all the guests cheered.

As the night went on, everyone enjoyed the rich dinner. The ballroom thrummed with conversation. At some point, guests at other tables who had finished eating moved onto the floor. The band transitioned from playing dinner music to dance songs.

Krennic was right. Blaire did like Domaine. The two quickly shared the first bottle and had moved onto a second. They also shared stories of their travels across the galaxy. They got along. Soon, Blaire was starting to experience some of the consequences of enjoying fine wine and handsome company. She giggled at his jokes and leant into his touch. It was nice to be with a man who she could see and feel. A man who was charismatic and charming. A man who wasn’t sealed away from her. Over time, their chairs inched closer together. Vader would never spend time with her like this.

From out of nowhere, Blaire felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped a little, and immediately twisted around in her chair to see who it was. The hand was attached to her waitress, Verghis.

“Apologies, Lieutenant Kaiden. Darth Vader would like to see you upstairs.”

“Of course, uh, no worries.” Blaire sighed in relief. She stood up from the table, giving a tiny wave to her acquaintances.

Krennic caught her hand as she was about to walk away. “Hurry back,” he said.

Blaire gave him a little smile in place of a reply. She made her way to the staircase again and headed up to the balcony. When she got to the top, Darth Vader was there, sitting next to the Emperor in the chair she had sat in. They were turned to overlook the ballroom.

“Master? You wanted me?”

Vader’s chair pivoted around to face her. “Yes, Apprentice.” He got up. “Let us speak somewhere else.”

He led Blaire through a hallway behind the balcony to a lush courtyard. There was a big fountain in the center and the ceiling was open to the Coruscanti night sky. It was quiet, peaceful, unlike the ballroom.

“You are enjoying yourself tonight, I hope?” questioned Vader.

Blaire nodded a ‘yes’ and took a seat on the wide lip of the fountain. It was cool next to the water.

“That amulet my Master gave you…” Vader paused. “It suits you. I would be wary, though. Many gifts he has given me were curses in disguise.”

Blaire’s hand wandered up to the black diamond on her throat again. It was still cool to the touch.

“I see you are also enjoying the company of Director Krennic. Again.”

There it is. Blaire dodged her eyes, looking down, at the thriving palm in the corner of the yard, anywhere but him. Vader waddled over to her side and awkwardly took a seat next to her at the fountain’s edge.

“You do not have to be shy around me, Blaire.”

She finally met his eyes, as well as one can through his mask. “So what _if_ I enjoy his company?”

Vader set his hands in his broad lap. “Do you not also enjoy mine?”

“Of course I do. I just…”

There was a moment of peace between them. No one spoke but the fountain.

Blaire let out a stubborn breath. “Why did you bring me to the Imperial Ball just to trade my company for the Emperor’s? The one day a year I get to enjoy myself and you won’t even celebrate with me.”

“I have duties to fulfill. Fraternizing is not one of them. My master does not approve.”

“Yet you ignore me even when he’s not around. Don’t leave me at a party and then be surprised when another man takes your place.”

“Please, Apprentice. Director Krennic could not replace me if I were dead. What does he have that I do not?”

“He has the Death Star-”

“And I have the Force,” Vader snapped. “The power of the dark side is far greater than anything a man can build.”

Blaire could not object to that.

Vader stood from his seat at the fountain’s edge. “I cannot let you continue to play the fool with Director Krennic. I will not stand to see you squander yourself with that degenerate. He only wants you to be his trophy.”

“At least he wants me at all.”

Their opposing powers were palpable in the cool, night air.

“Even after everything I have taught you about the Force, you still wish to see yourself with those talentless sycophants. You may complain that I do not entertain your taste for drink and leisure, but I would never leave you stranded in high tide, when any other man would!” Vader roared as he pointed a thick, gloved finger in her direction. “You need a warrior by your side, Apprentice. Not a disappointing socialite.”

“I don’t need a warrior; I am one. And Krennic hasn’t disappointed me yet, unlike you.” Blaire was standing now, too. The anger and unrest festered between them.

“Maybe not yet, but he will. And when he does, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces and you will come running back to me.”

Blaire wanted to fire back, but found herself out of ammo.

“Go on,” Vader pressed. “You don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Blaire turned away and stormed back down the hall, taking a shortcut to the stairs to avoid the Emperor’s balcony. She couldn’t deal with him after that. He would only make it worse, and take the opportunity to manipulate her while she’s vulnerable. She took a detour toward the refresher and swept through the doorway just as the sliding panel opened for her.

Her sharp heels clicked on the hard floor of the fresher as she approached the sink. Behind the row of silver spouts was a gigantic mirror that seamlessly made up the entire backsplash. Leaning on the edge of the counter, she watched the first crystal tear roll down her smooth, pale cheek. She didn’t even try to wipe them away, but simply watched them score her once-perfect makeup. Suddenly, the fresher door swished open again and through the frame strutted a glamorously dressed, magenta-colored Twi’lek.

“Carina?” Blaire mewed in shock.

Carina, decked in gold and sheer black per usual, didn’t even wink an eye as she approached the sink next to Blaire. “Surprised to see me? You look terrible. What did you do to my work?” She set the thick clutch she was carrying on the counter and began rifling through it.

“What are you doing here? I thought the Emperor didn’t allow Near-Human guests at the Imperial Ball. I mean not that I care but-”

Carina started to giggle. “Shimmer, you fuck enough Imperial officers and they’ll let you in anywhere. The higher ranking, the better. How do you think my studio and I got to be so successful?” She turned to look Blaire in the eyes. “Not everyone has a war lord to stand up for them.” Tears were still sliding down Blaire’s face. Carina’s expression turned sympathetic. “Why are you crying, shimmer?”

Blaire told her everything that had just happened with Vader. Carina dabbed the tears from her eyes and tried to fix her smudged makeup. She took a black eyeliner pen out of her clutch.

“Alright stand still. I obviously don’t have your color with me, but at least I can fix your eyes.” And Blaire let her.

“Get back out there, shimmer. I’d go with you, but I’m hiding from some Vice Admiral who thinks he owns me,” said Carina.

Blaire left the refresher with a new coat of paint. A part of her wanted to go back and find Vader, to let him hold her, caress her with the Force, make everything okay, but she thought against it. There was only one man she wanted to see now. She flew down the stairs, her cape flowing behind her. Landing herself on the black marble floor again, she found her table and sat down.

Krennic looked surprised when she appeared so rapidly. “There you are! I was beginning to wonder what happened to you. What did the Dark Lord have to say?”

“Let’s not talk about him anymore tonight,” Blaire answered quickly.

Krennic gave her a worried look but shook it off. “Anything you say, darling,” he said, flashing her another cheeky smile.

Blaire had noticed that the ball had gone into full swing since she had left it. The dance floor was nearly full of couples spinning and following the band’s music. She watched them move, imagining herself among them. Krennic followed her gaze.

“Would you like to dance, Blaire?”

She blinked out of her daze. “With you?”

“Unless you were hoping Kel would ask you,” he snorted, gesturing over at Kellance Fen, who had inconspicuously passed out drunk in his chair. Krennic stood up and offered Blaire his hand. She looked at him, at the dancers, and up at the balcony, where she saw Vader standing behind the Emperor’s chair. A short wave of defiance ran through her veins. Finally, she took Krennic’s hand.

The Director whisked Blaire to the open floor just as the band started another song. His left hand settled on her waist, just under where the cape was attached, and his right clasped with Blaire’s left. She warily laid her right hand on his shoulder, and then they were off. They swung and spun to the catchy tune. Blaire didn’t know where they were going and the song was quite fast, but Krennic knew just where to step. Before they knew it, their first dance was over, and much of the seated audience applauded the floor. The band began another, much easier song.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” poked Krennic as they moved gently among the other couples.

“I can’t,” Blaire replied. “But you, on the other hand, are quite the dancer.”

“Let’s just say it’s not my first time,” he said, eyes wandering over her shoulder.

Blaire smiled at him warmly. “You’re very easy to talk to, Orson.”

He shrugged. “I try my best.”

Blaire looked up at the balcony again. Vader had gone off somewhere.

“Are you alright, Blaire?” Krennic asked.

She snapped back to his eyes. “Yes? Yes, I’m fine.”

“You keep looking up there. If something is wrong, you can tell me. Let me help, darling.” He gently squeezed her hand with his. She could feel the texture of his skin, rough with age. Not the hands of a privileged high-born but not the hands of a laboring slave, either. He was somewhere in between. She wondered what Vader’s hands would have felt like. His real hands.

“Vader doesn’t like you,” she confessed. “I should be clearer. He doesn’t like _me_ being with you. Doesn’t want us to be together.”

Krennic worked his jaw. “I see. And what do you want?”

Blaire didn’t answer. The music had stopped and the melody had turned slow and sultry. Some couples on the floor left to go sit down or find a drink, and a few others stepped up to fill the void.

“We can go sit down, I mean, I don’t know,” Blaire suggested awkwardly, but Krennic had other ideas.

He took her by the waist, pressing them together. “One more dance,” he whispered.

Blaire slid her arms over his shoulders, offering herself to him, and they drifted away together.

When the song had finished, they separated reluctantly. Krennic led Blaire away from the dance floor, but not quite back to the table.

“Can I buy you another drink?” he asked.

Blaire looked up from where she was staring at her hands and found his eyes. “Yes, but...” Krennic gave her an intrigued expression. “But not here,” she finished.

Krennic took her hand once again and gently tugged her arm. “Come on, darling,” he said, wearing his signature curious grin. “I know just the place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I had to rewrite some of the dialogue multiple times because I just wasn't satisfied with the way I was doing it and I felt like my conversations just weren't very natural. I mean I know it's Star Wars, but they just didn't paint the scene like I wanted them to. If you have any suggestions or tips, I will gladly take them. I also want to acknowledge that this is just straight up daydream fantasy fulfillment and that Blaire is a total reader insert Mary Sue. I know it's kindof trash, but honestly I'm hella proud of it and I'm having the time of my life writing.  
> ALSO in the beginning, I was just leaning Krennic, but now, through no fault of my own, this fic has gone full Twilight love triangle, and I'm just going to have live with it. "Oops, my fingers slipped..." I know they're both evil. I can't stop myself.  
> I said it, we've acknowledged it, we can move on now.  
> Stay sane, friends


	5. Acquired Tastes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets spicy, just warning you

Blaire opened her hazel eyes, her vision still somewhat blurred with sleep. Silk sheets caressed her limbs. Her pale hair, tousled and loose, was splayed across white pillows. She stretched her legs, feeling the muscle groan against the tension. The motion traveled up her body, over mildly sore hips and her inward-curving waist. Her modest chest pushed outward as her shoulders bent to flex her back muscles. She sunk her fingers deeper into the fluffy pillow under her head. As she awoke further, it became increasingly obvious to her that she was not alone in the plush bed.

“Rest well, darling?” Krennic’s voice hummed just behind her ear.

An arm, toned and brushed with hair, a man’s arm, was slung over her ribs. A pair of legs matching the arm rested against hers. Blaire laid facing away from him and so she pressed backwards so that his masculine chest was flat against her back. Krennic growled and pulled her closer with the arm over her ribs, pulling her hips back into his. Blaire ground her ass against his cock, already hard for her. Memories of the night before slowly came back to her, each one steeped in wine and clouded with drunken pleasures.

“Already begging for more, hm?” Krennic said, clearing his throat. He moved his arm down to grip her side and reciprocate the motion. Shifting down the bed slightly, he lined himself up. Blaire bent her back to give him a better angle.

“Please?” she whined, twisting her neck around to look her suitor in the eyes. Her gaze tempted him. With wild hair, naked skin, and the remnants of last night’s makeup she appeared completely debauched.

“Please, what?” Krennic teased.

Blaire rolled her eyes but indulged him. “Please fuck me, Director. I need you to fuck me.”

That triggered something primal in Krennic. He propped himself up on his right elbow and grabbed her hair, turning her head and causing her to gasp. The fingers on her smooth hip dug into her flesh. He pushed his cock against her pussy. Just as he was about to penetrate her, he paused.

“Who’s your man?” he asked, still holding her in a steel grip.

Blaire huffed impatiently, but answered him. “You are.”

“Who’s going to fuck you?” Krennic teased her again, smirking behind her back.

Blaire moaned in frustration and tried to struggle against him, but Krennic denied her and tugged on her hair. She stilled in defeat. “You are.”

“Good girl,” Krennic said and promptly thrust inside. He drove up into her wet heat hard and fast, each movement eliciting tiny whimpers and gasps of encouragement. His thick cock found just the right spot and slammed against it, over and over.

Blaire moaned loudly and Krennic pulled on her hair harder. Her neck stretched out, exposed and slick with sweat, and she groaned with pleasure like an animal in heat. Her hands gripped the bedding, the sheets and pillows, as she shoved herself back onto his cock in time with his thrusts. The lewd smack of skin-on-skin filled the bedroom. Krennic growled and slowed his ministrations. He pulled out, causing Blaire to mumble something rude.

“Up,” he ordered, gently swatting her smooth, plump ass.

Blaire rolled onto her front, knees drawn up on the bed, and raised herself up so that she was kneeling in front of him with the side of her face pressed into the soft mattress. Krennic moved up behind her and slammed his cock into her again without hesitation. He started out slow and leisurely, and in time, speeding up to a break-neck pace as he continued to fuck her, rough and relentless.

“So good, Krennic…” Blaire whimpered. “M-gonna come.”

Krennic wrapped an arm around her side and reached between her legs. His fingers slid down her abdomen and over her pussy, just above where his cock drove in and out of her. He found her clit easily and rubbed a digit against it in a circular motion. Blaire pushed herself back against him and bent her spine further, giving him the perfect angle.

“Come for me, baby,” Krennic panted, thrusting into her all the way to the hilt. In the next moment, Blaire was clenched around his thick cock, practically screaming. Electric euphoria ripped through her muscles. Krennic’s hips stuttered and he gave a low groan. Blaire felt his hot, sticky cum fill her up inside. Krennic stilled behind her and after a few moments, he reluctantly withdrew. As soon as he did, Blaire collapsed flat on her stomach, muttering swears in Huttese. He gave her a few encouraging pats on the back of her thigh, then got off the bed.

“I’ll be in the fresher, darling,” Krennic called.

“Mhhkay…” Blaire grumbled. She waited until she heard the running water, then rolled off the bed and went to join him.

The scalding water and steam cleansed them both of the heavy scent of sweat and sex that had clung to them. Krennic hurried to get clean and get out. He told Blaire that he had a meeting to get to, so he left her in the shower to groom himself and get dressed. Blaire took her time washing her hair. Krennic didn’t have her shampoo of choice. Her preferred product was an expensive luxury from Zeltros, but she made do with what was available.

When she was satisfiably clean and combed, she exited the refresher, wrapped in one of the plush, white towels. Krennic was just putting on his gloves. He was dressed in the white officer’s uniform he was in when he and Blaire met for the first time. He looked up at her as she came into the room. Smirking, he strode over to her, took hold of her chin, and pressed his lips against hers. Blaire reached up and felt his shoulder. Their kiss was languid but brief.

“If I wasn’t all booked up, I would stay right here in this mediocre apartment and fuck you all day,” Krennic declared.

Blaire raised a dark eyebrow in suspicion. “You could take me with you. I’ll hide under the table and lick your cock while you deliberate budgets for the next cycle with your subordinates.”

Something was burning behind Krennic’s eyes. “Stars, you’re filthy,” he said in awe, tilting up her chin. “You know I’d love to have you along, but the other officers might get jealous and want a taste of you for themselves. And we can’t have that, can we, darling?”

Blaire shook her head innocently.

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” he said, cheekily. “Be sure to give Vader my best.”

_ The audacity of this man. _

They shared one last sinful kiss and Krennic left. When the door slid closed, Blaire sighed and flung off the towel to go find her dress. The Director was a fabulous lover, but he wasn’t the first. She had been with few before, mostly dashing young pilots at the Imperial Naval Academy back on her home planet, Vogel, and she had been on a preventative shot ever since then. Daring flyboys almost always turned her head, but her newfound affection for handsome and powerful men was something new and tempting. Krennic definitely fit the latter category, but in some ways, Vader suited both.

After skimming the room for signs of her discarded threads, she found it slung over a tall, floor-length mirror in the corner of the suite. She tugged it down, but set it aside on a chair to take in her own naked reflection. Her appearance was easy on the eyes, and she was pretty comfortable in her own skin.

Upturned brown eyes ringed with green and gold stared back at her through the mirror and scrutinized every feature in the glass. Arched and dark brown eyebrows complemented her piercing eyes. Fair cheeks, lightly peppered with freckles, filled in her heart-shaped face. Her nose was cute and petite, and her lips were bowed, perfect in their shape. Champagne blonde hair poured over freckled shoulders and clavicles carved from Durosian marble. Her arms were skinny with matching hands, delicate and feminine. Her breasts, pert and youthful, decorated a slim frame. Lean, yet sturdy hips fitted with legs, long and toned. Small feet were attached by bony ankles.

Satisfied with herself, Blaire returned to putting on last night’s outfit. The only other clothes available were Krennic’s own, and she wasn’t about to show up at Darth Vader’s palace doorstep in his rival’s attire. Especially after having just returned from a sexual rendezvous with said rival. So she got dressed and just as she was about to walk out, she remembered an important detail. Turning back around toward a fancy-looking, black wardrobe, she spotted the focus of her thoughts, the necklace Palpatine had given her. She plucked it from the felted surface of the furniture and used the mirror in the corner to put it back on.

“Can’t forget you, can we?” Blaire spoke softly to the black crystal, decorating her throat with the same cool touch as before. Her outfit now complete, she returned to the door and pressed a button on the access panel mounted on the wall to her left. As soon as the door slid open, she swiftly exited Krennic’s apartment. She made a right down the quiet hall and took a turbolift down to the lobby. Once she was there, she had the receptionist at the desk call an air taxi.

The ride to Vader’s Coruscanti palace was uneventful. Blaire got out of the taxi and ordered one of the stormtroopers standing in front of the palace to pay the driver. When the trooper protested, Blaire made some heinous threat to him so he did as she asked, tossing a handful of small, metallic credit chits through the window at the poor droid inside.

Palace attendants opened the large doors for Blaire as she headed in. She needed to get into her uniform and find Vader. No doubt he would be furious and ready to pounce on her with some dreadfully taxing mission to the Outer Rim. It was best if she was ready for the blow before it landed. She swept through the atrium and practically ran down the grand hall. Vader’s palace was like an entire uninhabited planet in and of itself. There were never any people, save for the guards and his dwindling servant population, and it was so silent that on most days, you could hear the droids dusting the already spotless furniture in the adjacent rooms.

Blaire reached the main room, a dark living chamber decorated in crimson and charcoal. Sofas and side tables were originally arranged around the space for the function of entertaining lively guests and hosting events, but when Vader was given the property, he had most of the furniture sold off so what remained was an isolated, solemn shell of a home. In the center was a great, smokey velvet throne, and on it sat the man himself, arms on the armrests and legs comfortably spread. Noticing him made Blaire stop in her tracks. He never hung out in this room, but he didn’t say anything, so she took it upon herself to initiate the conversation.

“Shouldn’t you be in the tank, Master? Perhaps the pressure chamber?”

“I am so pleased that you ask,” Vader said promptly. “I was waiting for my Apprentice to come back to me, weeping and inconsolable, to leap into my arms begging for a shred of comfort and compassion that I would deny her.”

_ Is that a hint of jealousy, I detect? Oh, who am I kidding? If Vader isn’t jealous, then I’m the Emperor. _

“You sat there all night, waiting for me.” Blaire said cynically.

“However long it takes.”

Blaire stood there in the sitting room, in last night’s dress, stupefied. “So there are no plans for us, then? No punishment for my insubordination?”

Vader barked out a laugh and Blaire flinched at the noise. Not from the ear-splitting volume, but from the simple fact that it was laughter, graveled and corrupted though it may be.

“Do not be absurd, Apprentice. Make yourself presentable.” Vader rose from his seat on the ashen throne. “We have an appointment at the Spire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it."  
> That was me writing this chapter. I've never written smut before so hopefully it's good. It should be for the amount of it that I've read, but you never can tell. That's all I really have to say about this one.
> 
> I just want to thank everyone who has given me kudos on this fic so far. Yep, all five of you. Ya'll are the real MVRs. I also want to say, to anyone who is following this fic, that I have BIG PLANS for this character. I'm talking trilogy. Like all the way to The Rise of Skywalker. Don't ask me how, that would be spoilers, but I just want to say that I have no intentions of abandoning this so strap yourselves in.


	6. Eye of the Blizzard

Back in her room, Blaire undressed and began to put on her uniform, starting with the under-shirt and leggings. Her quarters were comfortable and homely. It was a large room with lots of open space. A vanity on one side, a sofa on the other, and a walk-in closet in the back. The en-suite refresher was roomy and always kept spotless. Lamps, tables, and amenities filled the gaps in between pieces of furniture. Assorted hanging art pieces and a large holovision screen decorated the walls. In the center was her bed. It was circular in shape and littered with lavish furs and pillows. The colors matched the palace in black and crimson, but also had smooth tones of ivory, gold, and brown that made the space warm and inviting. Her personal quarters was probably the only place in the entire palace that she could stand to be in for any extended period of time. Other than the grand balcony, of course, where she could watch the traffic trickle over the Coruscanti skyline.

Blaire placed the unclasped necklace, the Emperor’s gift, in a tall jewelry case beside her vanity. Just as she locked the drawer, a faint rattling sound came from a vent in the wall on the opposite side of the room. Curious and intrigued, Blaire went to the sofa below the vent and climbed up. The rattling sound was slowly growing in volume. The clink-clack of metal-on-metal was getting closer. Standing barefoot on the sofa, Blaire reached all the way up and pulled a tab on the vent, allowing it to open wide. A few more clinks came from the void and then a little black claw appeared out of the darkness, immediately followed by a glassy black dome peering down at her.

Blaire’s face lit up with joy. “Fancy meeting you here, Esvee. Come down here!”

SVL-6 was her personal droid. One might even say pet. He accompanied her on many missions where he would be of use. When he wasn’t out on his master’s belt, Esvee was usually back on the ship. SVL droids were a limited recon series equipped with multi-frequency cameras, antennas for short-range transmission, and a scomp link capable of accessing standard systems. They were small and could easily fit into a human hand. Useful for light troops and scouts, invaluable for a Sith on business of infiltration.

The droid shot out of the vent and landed on the bed in the center of the room. Fire danced on the rim of a tiny jet engine on the back of his body as it sped through the air. The rocket was standard measure for SVL models in case they needed a quick getaway.

“Where have you been? Do you always mess around in the vents while I’m away?”

Esvee chirped an answer in droid speak as Blaire closed the vent and got down from the sofa.

“Just don’t get machine oil on my Lexiaus pelt,” Blaire warned.

Esvee beeped back cheekily, and Blaire went back to getting ready for another exhausting trip.

When she was dressed back in the plastoid armor, Blaire took one last look in the mirror. She put her hair up in the way Carina had done for her. Her blonde locks twisted onto braids flat against her head, woven into a crown. Elegant yet formidable. It wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t like anyone would compliment her on it, but Blaire took pleasure in the little things. She liked to look good. Esvee whistled over her shoulder.

“Thank you, Esvee.” Blaire turned around and gently raised her hand. She willed the force to pluck the droid from her bed, who folded up his legs as he floated through the air. Blaire clipped him onto her belt on the right side, under her arm. Just before she left her room, she made sure to grab her helm and put it on. The design consisted of smooth, rounded features with sharp corners and edges, all made of black denscris. The face looked somewhat like a trooper’s, but more sinister. The tip of the sleek comb met the end of a pair of jaw fins, which swept the cheeks, at a rounded notch in the back. The front muzzle was carved out in an arch and a respirator was set within the face to allow the wearer perfect breathing capability even in a vacuum. The visor was split into angles, allowing for maximum peripheral vision. It was a helm made for hunting; both of which fit Blaire like a glove.

Blaire made her way through the palace and took a turbolift to the top deck. It was a spacious balcony turned into a landing pad. There, a Lambda-class shuttle was waiting for her, shining in the crisp morning light and flanked by a handful of stormtroopers. They remained at attention as the ship’s ramp lowered. Steam spewed from ports on the underside of the vessel. Blaire gave a small nod to the troopers and boarded the ship.

It was a quick trip for the pilot to fly the transport up and out of the atmosphere of the planet, to where the _Devastator_ was looming above, waiting to depart. The shuttle glided along its flank until reaching the designated docking bay. It passed through the magnetic shield and into the side of the Star Destroyer. Blaire watched out of the window as the shuttle landed. Inside, the docking bay was simply buzzing with activity. The ramp lowered and the small crew disembarked. Blaire passed many others as she walked deeper in. Officers ordered troopers here and there. Engineers checked shuttles. A team of maintenance workers jogged past her on their way to unload another arriving transport.

Transport Officer Sai was waiting by the hangar bay exit studying the activity and occasionally tapping on her datapad. She had a pretty face. Her features were cute and friendly, and her eyes were large. Her dark hair was spun into a single plait that ran straight down the nape of her neck.

“Welcome aboard, First Lieutenant,” she said in greeting.

A skinny, young cadet stood next to her. She had ashy brown hair tied up in a bun and her uniform didn’t appear to fit quite right, like a coat hanging loose over a metal frame.

“Officer Sai.” Blaire’s words were slightly distorted by the helm. Her voice, usually sweet and modulated, almost vibrated through the respirator.

“Captain Ronnadam will brief you on the bridge.”

“Excellent, thank you.” Blaire turned to the cadet. “You must be my new assistant.”

The girl nodded firmly, almost bowing. “Yes, First Lieutenant Kaiden. Cadet Lynna Lyrell at your service.”

Blaire had requested a new personal assistant after her last one was reassigned. The word around was that he had caught feelings for his commanding officer and then was inexplicably promoted to the rank of captain to an outpost on a swamp planet in the Outer Rim.

“Lynna,” Blaire said, trying her name on her tongue. “Do you know where my quarters are?”

Lynna nodded fervently. “Yes, absolutely.”

Blaire took off her helm, briskly lifting it from her shoulders. “Then take this over there,” she said, and tossed it into Lynna’s arms, who barely caught it in time. “And afterwards, unpack my things from Coruscant. I’ll page you if and when you’re needed.” She gave her a pleasant, little smile for good measure.

“Eh, sure thing, Lieutenant.” Cadet Lyrell matched her smile, somewhat uncomfortably, and then shuffled away.

 _That went better than expected_ , Blaire thought to herself and continued walking. She passed through the large hangar doors from the bay into a wide hallway. She had been living aboard the _Devastator_ for a few years, and knew the corridors about as well as one could. Eventually, she ended up on the bridge. All the ensigns and navigators were already seated and ready for departure from Coruscant. Captain Corssin was on deck and overlooking the main console in the center of the upper platform. Vader was front and center at the window, looking out at the wide expanse of space in front of him. Blaire naturally went to him first. She walked up behind him between the command pits and stopped at his side.

“Quite the view,” she said, breaking the silence.

“Are you missing something, Apprentice?” he asked, ignoring her comment.

“Not that I recall. Unless the answer is supposed to be you,” she said vexingly.

Vader reached for his belt. “Are you sure?” He held up his hand, revealing Blaire’s lightsaber. The pink slivian iron softly gleamed under the low light of the bridge.

Blaire didn’t say anything, but simply reached out to grab the hilt. She moved to take it from Vader’s hand, feeling the elegant, polished metal cool her fingertips from under her glove. Her hand tried to pick it up, but he wouldn’t let go. She tugged on it once more and it slipped from his durasteel grasp.

Clipping the saber to her own belt, Blaire said, “Thank you, Master.”

Vader didn’t respond. He almost never did, but it felt colder this time.

Captain Corssin spoke up from the central console behind them. “All ready on course for Stygeon Prime!”

The navigators in the data pits each called back in turn, signifying that the ship was ready for departure. Corssin called for jump to hyperspace, and within seconds, the _Devastator_ was blazing through space at top speed. The warped, neon blue light shone bright through the view ports. Blaire averted her eyes after a minute of looking at it. She could only stand it for so long. Vader, on the other hand, stood as still as a mountain, taking in the molten starlight.

“I should go find Ronnadam,” Blaire said as she stepped away from her master’s side. She really did need to meet with him, but it also gave her an excuse to get away from the sickening view ports. She walked back down between the command pits. Captain Ronnadam was present on the bridge and wasn’t hard to spot in his white uniform. He appeared to be giving a nasty lecture to some junior lieutenant, who looked very guilty, but the captain turned to face Blaire when he noticed her out of the corner of his eye. His face was rough. Even his eyebrows were graying. The Imperial Navy was wearing on him, as it does to many who have been in it for as long as he had.

“Ah, First Lieutenant. I was meaning to find you.” He glared at the junior officer once more and gestured to him to be dismissed. “Why don’t we talk in the meeting room?”

“After you, Captain,” Blaire replied. She followed him as he led her to the officer’s conference room where they usually met for things such as this. They both took a seat around a table with a holoprojector installed in the center.

“Now, about this business on Stygeon Prime,” Ronnadam started as he typed something into the console. The holoprojector lit up and started projecting a green image of the planet in question over the table. The projection flickered as it zoomed in on a prison and a little red indicator pointing to it read “The Spire.”

“There’s been a breach in security. They’ve been trying to find the scum that got away, but to no avail.”

“Really?” Blaire was relatively surprised. “I can’t imagine that someone would be able to break out of there.”

Stygeon Prime as the home of one of the most secure Imperial prisons in the galaxy. Not to mention one of the harshest climates of any planet she could think of. It was nicer inside the prison than it was outside. She had only been once, but that one visit was very unpleasant, even as someone who wasn’t a prisoner.

“He didn’t do it alone. A team of rebels broke in, tried to free him. The guards killed the crew, but the target was lost in the confusion. And well, it wouldn’t be a problem if it was just anyone. The escapee is a Jedi.” Ronnadam shrugged. “Or at least he used to be.”

“So he made it outside?"

“There wasn’t a trace of him left in the prison. Where else could he have gone?”

Blaire narrowed her eyes, thinking it over. “Do you think he’s even still alive? I can’t imagine anyone could survive for long in weather like that.”

“Difficult, no doubt, but we cannot ignore the possibility. I’d like to see a body, if I can. Or at least proof that he’s dead. Then we won’t have to worry about him anymore.” The captain gestured with his hands.

“No, I suppose we won’t.”

Many hours passed in hyperspace on the way to the Outer Rim. Blaire spent most of that time conversing with fellow officers in the lounge and the rest spent relaxing in her quarters. Lynna had done a fine job of unpacking, but quarters aboard a ship would never stack up to quarters on solid ground. Of that, Blaire was certain. If only Krennic was here to make time pass quicker...

She was resting in her bed, not nearly as comfortable as the one on Coruscant, watching a holodrama when an electronic bell chimed and a transmission came through a holovision screen on the wall. A message on it read, “The Devastator will be arriving at Stygeon Prime momentarily. Go to Bay 7 for transport.” Blaire sighed in anticipation. _It shouldn’t be that bad_ , she thought and stood up. She left her room, making sure to put her helm back on before she stepped out and made her way to Bay 7.

When she got there, she found the ST 321 waiting for her. It was Vader’s personal Lambda-class shuttle. Blaire boarded and took the chair next to her master, who was already seated. Ronnadam was there as well, doing some work on a datapad. By that time, the _Devastator_ had already exited hyperspace and was drifting by Stygeon Prime. It was only moments after Blaire sat down that the ramp sealed the vessel shut and the transport was in motion. She and Vader made no conversation during the short trip to the planet’s surface. Instead, Blaire listened to the pilots in the front relay messages in technical jargon.

At last the shuttle had arrived. The sleet had started to beat unrhythmically upon the coat of the transport vessel just a minute go, and now they were descending through the storm. The ship touched down onto a landing pad, and the ramp hissed open. Like always, Blaire followed Vader outside. They walked side by side past dozens of cold weather assault troopers standing at attention. Ronnadam followed close behind, wrapped in a parka with his face drowning in the hood.

Blaire looked up through her visor at the towering prison that rose far above. The base was wreathed in massive sheets of icy, purple rock that spiked upward like a nest of razors. Frozen droplets rained from above, plummeting into the layer of fresh snow on the ground. A never-ending midnight swallowed the sky in darkness. The tower itself was made from thick black metal and was weathered by the planet-wide blizzard that plagued Stygeon Prime’s atmosphere. Even the mere thought of warmth was ripped away by the howling winds. _If winter was a planet_ , Blaire thought.

As the pair strode forward through the sleet, Blaire noticed a great, big blast door creak open before them. She had made sure to wear an extra layer of heat-trapping clothing just for this occasion, but even now she barely controlled the impulse to run inside.

Once they were in, the blast door slammed shut behind them. In the foyer, a tall woman in officer gray was waiting for them. Blaire recognized her on sight. It was Amest Pilrad, Chief Warden of Stygeon Prison.

“Welcome, Lord Vader. We appreciate you coming out,” she declared in a strong, smokey voice. Her olive skin was wrapped tight around her facial bones, giving her a sour expression. Her black hair was short and tucked underneath the officer’s cap she wore. She had blue, avian eyes that could pierce beskar. It was no wonder why she was Chief Warden.

“Omit your pleasantries, Warden,” Vader ordered. “Show me the cell.”

“Yes, my Lord. Follow me.”

Vader and Blaire were escorted through the prison, up multiple turbolifts, and around countless corners until they reached their requested destination. Their white-coated companion stayed behind and was taken to the surveillance center instead, so he could review recorded footage of the attack. The interior of the prison was immensely dreary. It was all the same dusky gray color, and the floors were so scuffed and worn in some places that you could see steel-silver metal peeking through the ugly paint. Prisoners in their rooms watched them pass with disgust.

“This is the cell, his last known location,” Pilrad explained. “The attack happened the night of the Imperial Ball, a distraction like no other. The rebels knew it would be the perfect opportunity to strike. Somehow, they knew where he was and broke him out. We searched the entire prison, but there wasn’t a trace of him left.”

The cell was practically destitute. The only piece of furniture, if you could call it that, was a shelf with a mat that was built into the wall. The makings of a refresher was set within an alcove on the one side of the room. An electrified, containment shield served as a door and glowed red in an otherwise colorless hall.

“Any suspicious departures?” Blaire asked.

Pilrad’s eyes flicked to the right to look at her. “If he stole a ship, we didn’t see it. If he had, he could very well be on the other side of the galaxy by now.”

“He is still on this planet,” said Vader. “And for now he is still alive. I sense his presence.”

The warden’s expression transitioned from confident to quizzical. “But that would be impossible. No one can survive more than a few hours out there.”

Blaire shook her head, “Not without help.”

“The terrorists that broke him out are all dead.” Pilrad pursed her lips. “Are you insinuating that my loyal troops would betray me, _Lieutenant_?”

Without missing a beat, Vader answered for her, “That is exactly what she is insinuating, Warden. Now, are you going to order your guards to line up for interrogation, or do I have to do it for you?”

Pilrad clenched her jaw at his scolding and answered, “Right away, Lord Vader.” She turned sharply and went away down the prison hall, raising a communicator to her face as she went. Blaire smirked under her armor.

Vader turned his attention to his apprentice. “And you,” he said, raising a thick, gloved finger, “will go find the unfortunate escapee.”

Blaire was suddenly perturbed, thankful that her helm masked her expressions. “Out in the blizzard? If this was your plan I would have thought you’d send a droid or some troopers before me. What about the Inquisitors?”

“A droid cannot withstand the conditions and stormtroopers are not nearly intelligent enough for this mission. As for the Inquisitors, they are busy elsewhere in the galaxy. Besides, why send one of them when I have my best acolyte right here?”

“And should I find him alive?”

Vader paused for a moment. “I have faith in your judgement.”

Blaire knew what this meant. Vader’s trust was a hard-won privilege. She could not fail him now. She was going to find this Jedi, or die trying.

“Yes, Master.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took awhile because I had so much stuff due for college, but I finally caught a break and wanted to return to this delicious fic. Also, the concept for these couple chapters are a little more intuitive and I think they have more of a purpose than just a PWP. As fun as they are, I don't want this to just turn into Sex in the Star Wars Story. I almost just kept writing and made this into a mega chapter, but I thought better of it. The thrilling part 2 of this plot line is coming soon. Stay tuned.
> 
> And as always, thank you.


	7. Author's Note

This is not a chapter, but an author's note.

I've been thinking about this story, and I've decided to make some major character renovations on many of my OC's characteristics. I could continue as is, but the story would be garbage and I can't have that. I don't know if I should just edit everything or start over, but I wanted to add this note here to clarify that I do not intend to continue this work as it is. I'm sorry if you read it all and are left on that minor cliffhanger. I'm the second slowest writer on the planet, so if I do continue, it will probably be a while from this chapter's publication date. I know this isn't a super popular fic or anything and it's not a big deal, but just in case anyone was waiting on the next chapter, I wanted them to be aware.

Thanks for all the comments and kudos. It is a great pleasure to write a fic that someone else actually reads and enjoys.


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